After Hornets - A Marble Hornets Continuation
by Rotombomb64
Summary: Tim Wright is on the run after the events of Entry 87, trying to escape the mess made by Alex and The Operator. However, Tim begins to discover that many people have suffered similar events of him and his deceased friends, and he's left with a choice to help them through it, as fragments of his troubled past begin to surface and control his life once again.


_**Chapter One : Night of the Train Ride**_

Everything is fine.

This is the fabrication that Timothy Wight wanted to believe. He longed to believe that he had led, up to this very point in time, a very average, normal life, that he had close friends whom he could go drinking and partying with, that his family kept in-touch with him, even inviting him to special events. He wanted to be normal. This was the dream that he yearned for ever since his childhood. Ever since he was admitted into a mental institution at a young age. Ever since he had hallucinated that tall, distressing image of a pale inhuman creature with no face. And ever since he had met Alex Kralie.

Tim held his head in his hands, his elbows resting on his thighs and his back hunching so that he was met with the image of the same dirty, grey floor of the train compartment he sat in. He sighed slowly, his aches and shivers of fatigue and lack-of nourishment making him quiver slightly, as he repeated the words that made him long for something he could never have in his head.  
"Everything is fine."

It hadn't even been three months, as far as he could be concerned, that Tim had fled Tuscaloosa, Alabama, after the events that two had of the only people Tim held close, Jay Merrick and Brian Thomas, murdered by crazed former college-student, and producer of 'Marble Hornets', an amateur student-film which was a disguise for a sinister plot, Alex Kralie. After the horrid discovery that Tim had been leading a double-life as a mask-wearing, violent kidnapper and stalker, and his deathly struggle with a gun-wielding Alex, which lead to his own demise, Tim knew that he had to flee the state. He had tried so hard to take control of his own life, so hard to get better from whatever mental illness was causing these lapses of time where he'd lose control and dawn his ugly, white mask which he had thankfully disposed of. However, Tim hadn't left completely without a trace. He had informed Jessica, a 20-something woman who, like himself and Jay, had been dragged into Alex's affairs, that he was leaving the area and never coming back. He had also updated the Marble Hornets Channel, originally created by Jay to document Alex's film, letting devoted watchers know what had happened after his death-defying struggle with Alex. Missing posters had already started appearing for Jay and Brian, a pained and forced reminder of what Tim failed to halt, as soon as he planned to leave the area via a long, tedious train ride. Jay and Brian weren't the only victims of Alex's brutality. Alex's girlfriend Amy, fellow actor Sarah and cameraman Seth had also perished in the past year, all attacked by Alex and left for dead. However, evidence from the 'totheark' Channel, (created by Brian and Seth to investigate Alex's activities not caught on Jay's camera), could possibly hint towards Seth's survival against Alex's attack. Tim wasn't sure where he would go, or what he would do. He was sure that, if he were to stay, he'd become a suspect to police, and would be blamed for the crime, as Alex wasn't alive to take his punishment. He was on the run, booking it before anyone questioned him on why Jay Merrick's lifeless, bloodied corpse lay in his kitchen, upon a floor piled with disturbing, cryptic notes written by his murderer, that's if the creature that they all referred to as 'The Operator' hadn't snatched Jay's body to the bizarre alternate dimension totheark members refer to as 'The Ark'.

Tim had packed whatever he could, several clothing items ranging from his favourite red-and-black flannel shirt, to the scuffed-up, mustard yellow jacket he dawned as his masked alter-ego, an unhealthy amount of medication, which not only served the purpose of temporarily taming his schizophrenia, but also withheld the sickness that The Operator distributed from affecting him for short periods of time, and lastly, a battered, worn camera, formerly used by Jay to document strange happenings which revolved around Alex Kralie, into a small, sandy-brown bag which Tim was using as a makeshift pillow for his head, as his arm grew weak and tired. He tried to doze off to sleep, mumbling in his gruff, scratchy voice as he did so.  
"Everything...is fine...Nothing can hurt me here..."

It wasn't until a soft, gentle poke to his skull that Tim realised that, however small the number was, the train was occupied by other people. He quickly raised his head, squinting in the harsh light of the strips installed in the roof, as a stout, young silhouette stared back at him. As his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the artificial light, Tim saw the shadow for what it truly was: a small, well-bundled up boy, aged around 15 or 16.  
"Excuse me, Sir, you're blocking up the way to the rest of the seats."

It hadn't occurred to Tim that his legs had stretched and rested on the seats opposite to his row in his sleep. He shakily retracted his legs from the seats, which the boy took notice of, as well as his pale, tired complexion. The boy gave Tim an oddly sympathetic look, as if he didn't care he was talking to a complete stranger.

"Are you alright Sir? You look like you're about to pass out." The boy asked quietly, as not to disturb the little passengers there were. Tim began to reply, his voice slightly cracking due to the hunger.  
"Y-Yeah...sorry kid, you can go now..."

The child nodded, walking past Tim's row to sit three seats behind it. Tim thought nothing more of the child's interaction, though he was surprised to see someone that young on a train ride in the middle of the night. Tim slowly lifted his hands to his face, wiping anyway any sweat he produced in his sleep. His skin felt worn and greasy, his facial hair was unkempt and rough. As soon as he found a location, he needed to shave. His deep brown eyes felt sore and tired, blinking slowly as he still adjusted to the light. At that moment, he was wearing a plain, blue t-shirt and jeans, a rushed morning was the catalyst of the decision to wear such clothes.

Tim's eyes slowly closed, as he attempted to go back to sleep.

 _Cough cough._

His eyes shot open, and turned to the source of the noise. He knew that whoever coughed had a chance of being connected to the creature which had been the source of his unfortunate life. And, sure enough, Tim was met with the image of the same child he had spoke with, hunched over his seat and coughing violently. His eyes were closed, as he painfully hacked and coughed. Time got a good look at his appearance. His hair was a mousy brown, which stuck out from underneath a blue beanie. He wore a large, green winter coat, with fake fur lining the inside of the hood. Underneath that was a grey t-shirt and a maroon scarf, which coiled around his neck. Like Tim, he also wore loose-fitting jeans, which could possibly be hand-me-downs from a relative or friend. The only time Tim could recall seeing someone who, though they appeared healthy, had this kind of coughing fit, was with himself and Jay, on multiple occasions. Tim's hand instantly shot towards his bag, a subconscious move caused by his own paranoid to stay healthy from any attack from The Operator, to pull his medicine from his bag. He stopped. While he had given Jay the same pills to recover after an Operator attack once, he wasn't sure if he could rely on them at this moment. If this kid was smart, he'd refuse the meds from Tim, which had the potential to worsen his attack. If that happened, The Operator could appear.

Tim cautiously peered over the row of seats behind him, as he carefully chose his words before he spoke to the child.

"Hey, uh...you alright?" Tim's hand slowly creeped towards his bag.  
The kid glanced at Tim, eventually halting his coughing fit after a minute. He wheezed slowly, beginning to talk.

"Y-Yeah...Just some sort of flu. I think I'm getting over it. I've got the worst headache now though..." He held his forehead with one hand, hissing in pain.

Tim slowly opened his bag, quietly pulling out a half-full bottle of pills.

"I've got some, um, pills for the flu. Do you..?"

The kid cut Tim off before his sentence ended.

"Yeah, thanks."

Tim sighed in relief. He was expecting a poor reaction from the kid, but the fact that he actually accepted the pills concerned Tim. He'd thought that the parents would have taught the kid better than to accept anything dodgy from strangers. The kid held his hand over the row of seats, towards Tim. Regrettably, Tim shook out two pills from the bottle into his hand and slowly leaned over his row of seats, reaching over to the Kid's hand. At that instant, Tim felt coughs welling up within his lungs, growing more desperate to escape by the second. He began to uncontrollably breathe heavily and sweat, as his vision blurred. He knew this feeling, and what accompanied it next. He needed to hurry up and give the pills to the kid, who was also coughing badly too. Tim's hand reached over in desperation, slightly shaking due to the movement of the train. The lights flickered on and off, making Tim disoriented, yet he still reached over the empty seats.

That's when the entire train came to a grinding halt, throwing everyone off-balance and into the gangway, including Tim, the kid and the meds. The kid had fell into another coughing fit, as the lights in the cartridge eventually blew out from flickering. Tim was stuck underneath two other train passengers, unable to collect the pills from the floor or take new ones. There was a slam at the wall which made everyone on the train fall silent. An eerie chill followed this. The Operator was here, and it had forcefully stopped the train.


End file.
